Voltage
by lucyfan0000
Summary: Their relationship was never based on fair play. Toguchi/Zenitsu. Timeframe: end of vol. 2.


**Voltage**

Timeframe: end of vol. 2 of MPDP.

Warnings: MPD Psycho fanfic. Therefore – violence, colorful language & sexual themes.

All rights to the characters belong to Sho-u Tajima, whom I still can't forgive for killing off Toguchi (seriously, author, wtf…).

Finally, a big thanks to my beta – Mizzytron – for providing me with useful advice to improve this story! ^^

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TV lights flickered lazily over the otherwise dark room, the titanium screen showing something bloody and vaguely pornographic. Looking at the mashed-up pulp of a neko-whatever, one had to wonder if it was physically possible to make that much noise when your vocal cords were as good as history. And the voice-over was not a very good one either. Fucking amateurs. They didn't know a thing about the art of filming. As if anyone did, these days.

Toguchi Kikuo smiled condescendingly and glanced at the weary-looking plastic alarm clock wedged between Dario Argento and Lucy Monostone's tapes. There was really no good excuse for watching gore porn of questionable quality at 4:30 in the am, with only empty beer cans for company, even if he was a freelancer. But then again, why the need for excuses, why the need to explain anything to anyone? He settled back against the leather couch. As a free person, he could do anything he liked. He thumbed the volume up a couple of decibels and wondered if the silence behind the wall meant his neighbors found the film's soundtrack to their liking.

Just as the pair of would-be-dead teenagers were starting to explore the lesser known uses of garden shears, a smooth hand with black nails snaked down Toguchi's arm and fingered the mute button on the remote control. Oh for fuck's sake. That was one surprise entrance he could do without.

Toguchi tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "A knock on the door and a 'hello' would have sufficed, Zenitsu."

The tall latex-clad figure stepped out nonchalantly into the TV-light. "Oh, is that right? Because I think I could have blown your door to pieces and you wouldn't have noticed, with all that squealing going on."

Zenitsu's hair was more of a mess than usual. Toguchi could practically see gel dripping off each tousled strand. He was also missing his atrocious feather coat, but that at least was an improvement. Come to think of it, he probably just left it on the coat rack. The bastard didn't need an invitation to feel right at home.

As if to irritate Toguchi further, Zenitsu positioned himself in front of the screen, making it difficult to keep up with the rather fast-moving plot. It crossed Toguchi's mind that he should be asking Zenitsu just how he got into this apartment, considering that Toguchi himself would have never given the man his keys if his life depended on it. On the other hand, after so many previous meetings which began with a question of similar nature, was it really worth the effort? It bothered Toguchi more that he could only see girl number one slicing up girl number two by looking between Zenitsu's legs.

"Getting off on self-made documentaries, I take it?" Zenitsu smiled sweetly.

Had to bring it up, the sleaze.

"Was getting off, thanks for asking…" The words came out a lot more venomous than Toguchi intended them to be. After an uneasy pause he added, "And this trash isn't mine, and you know it," and immediately regretted it.

Zenitsu's smile slowly turned into a wide sadistic grin. "Oh I'm sorry, it's just that your trash looks so similar."

His eyes scaled the walls of the apartment, taking time to spare each photo a derisive glance. "Same with these – a complete waste of space, each of them. Has anybody ever told you that an average polka-dotted wallpaper would be a better design solution for this room? I really don't know which is worse: this pseudo-artistic slop, or the gore-whore material you sell to us."

Fucking hypocrite. Toguchi brushed damp strands of hair off his face irritably. "I think you do. You're the one who watches all the gore-whore material I fish up. Daily. And don't even bother saying that you don't enjoy it."

Zenitsu's grin faded a bit, but overall he still looked unbearably smug. He gave the half-naked man sitting before him a long look full of obvious distaste.

"Mmm, wishful thinking is all that is. I would never watch a second of your "art" if it wasn't on my list of duties. Speaking of which," he took a step forward, placing a sleek black knee on the armrest, "I never got your photo reports on coded schoolgirl victims we talked about last week."

The schoolgirls onscreen looked like they were having lots of fun with their giant machetes and God knows what else, not that Toguchi could see or even hear it properly. Thinking about it logically, it was in his own interest to give Zenitsu what he came for to get this over with as quickly as possible. But that nasty mocking voice, and that impossibly arrogant curve of the man's lips, and that latex-covered leg demonstratively violating his personal space – it was a blatant provocation. And Toguchi couldn't bring himself to swallow it.

"Oh, what reports?" He gave Zenitsu his best clueless smile.

Not much of a reaction again - a quizzically arched eyebrow. However, as one, two, three seconds passed in an increasingly tense silence, last hints of amusement drained from Zenitsu's face. Somewhere in the back of his head Toguchi registered that this situation wasn't all that amusing, and his work reputation was in dire need of improvement if his clients fell for things of this sort so easily. Nevertheless, as he watched discontent and uneasiness weave their way into Zenitsu's features, he found it difficult to keep his own smile from growing wider.

Emotions had a way of transforming Zenitsu's face. Toguchi knew the man tried his best to keep up the cool visage, and it was almost a pity. Those rare moments, when his formal condescending smile gave way to a look of surprise, or even better, to a pitiful scowl were worthy of being filmed. The gloomy disappointment pooling in his half-closed eyes at the moment didn't look bad either.

Toguchi wondered if sometimes he tried to be difficult on purpose, just to see how those pliant features would twist. But, of course, that would be going too far. In fact, it was a pretty ridiculous idea. Toguchi's smile faltered. He waved towards the back of the room distractedly, trying to shake off that uncomfortable thought.

"The camera is somewhere on the bookshelves. Next to the Gantz manga, I think. The pictures should still be on the memory card."

Zenitsu rolled his eyes and took off for the shelves. Meanwhile on the screen rabid flesh-eating nurses have joined the scene, as if the characters weren't fucked up enough already. Toguchi's hand finally found the remote control, which somehow migrated to the floor under the couch, and upped the volume. But something felt off. As if he missed a crucial plot twist, and the events onscreen were now going right over his head.

Over various noises of carnage he could hear the sound of books falling in the back. Clearly Zenitsu wasn't impressed with his comic-book collection.

"Hey, you'd better not upset that shelf too much. If one of the books happens to fall and do any damage to the Lara Croft figurines below, I can no longer guarantee your safety in this house."

Zenitsu's reply to this was muffled by hysterical screaming of another clueless victim, but it was a sure bet that it was something unpleasant.

"Didn't catch that." Toguchi had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the sounds of a chainsaw starting up. The clueless victim was getting ready to make mincemeat out of her unfortunate harassers.

"I _said_ that only a loser like yourself can dust off figurines of half-naked females, instead of hitting it off with a real one. Sad, really."

Toguchi snorted. "That's rich, coming from you. Considering that the only woman you ever saw naked calls you "son"."

The lack of noises in the background probably meant that Zenitsu finally found what he was looking for. Also, that he was having difficulty formulating a fitting comeback. Toguchi leaned back on the couch. It occurred to him that bringing Teu Mimegumi into this might have been too much. He couldn't care less about that woman's feelings or reputation, of course. And offending her "son" in any way possible was the whole point of this conversation. Still, resorting to low things like that even in this verbal match seemed to violate a moral code of some sort.

More seconds and TV frames flickered by. At last the sour reply came: "So how is Nanao-san doing? You know, the redhead with piercings everywhere."

Apparently moral codes could go take a hike. Where Zenitsu got all the updates on his private life, Toguchi would never know. But it was extremely unnerving how the bastard was always so well-informed on who was his current bedmate, which doctor he visited last, even what concert he went to just last week. And he always managed to twist each piece of information into something malignant. This one didn't taste bitter anymore, but it was still enough to add on to the pulsing irritation in the back of Toguchi's mind.

"Fine, I guess."

"Mmm-hmm, that would be my guess too. No reason why she shouldn't be, now that her partner actually resembles a normal human being."

Toguchi was about to take a stab at Zenitsu's questionable definition of normalcy, when the man himself reappeared from behind the couch with a photo-camera. The next second volume was once again muted, and the remote control was up in the air and flying across the room.

Toguchi looked up at Zenitsu, momentarily paralyzed by anger swelling up in his chest. It wasn't like he gave a damn about what went onscreen anymore. But there was only so much disrespect he could take. And this wasn't even an insult, it was a clear declaration of war.

Seemingly oblivious to Toguchi's reaction, Zenitsu chattered away: "Ah, these pictures are such a waste, that's not what we agreed on at all. The only thing they focus on is pointless gore. Not much of surprise, really. And what about Remi and Saeko Yanagawa? I can hardly identify them from these shots."

"Is it my fault their homeroom teacher attempted to put them headfirst through a custom-made meat grinder?" Toguchi spat. Hair on his arms stood up, as if electrified by the pent-up energy filling the dark room.

The corners of Zenitsu's mouth curled up. If anything, the glare only encouraged him. He went on without answering, "You're going to take more photos of these two. No additional payment for this, naturally. The bodies should still be in the morgue. And I know this place has a special appeal for you, but I must ask you to not get carried away by the sights."

Toguchi's nails sank into the fabric of the armrest. Zenitsu's face was now sporting the most sickening smile he has ever seen. It was vile, and venomous, and, for some reason, maddeningly wanton. It sucked the air right out of the room, making it hard to breath. And that made Toguchi even more furious.

He now saw that there was something vulgar about the man's pose as well. The way his chest rose and fell under that tight-fitting black top. The way TV light accentuated his exposed stomach muscles and latex-covered hips.

Zenitsu flexed his shoulders, and shifted his weight from one foot to another. He cocked his head to the side, as if considering something. "All in all, this visit shouldn't take long, even if it is you we're talking about here. And with all the attention the press has given those teens lately, your appearance won't arouse suspicion…"

The tip of his tongue flicked over his upper lip, as he looked up at Toguchi. "…probably."

This remark could have gone unnoticed earlier in their conversation, but now it was a lit match held over a lake of gasoline by a stone-drunk pyromaniac with an attention deficit disorder. And as eye contact was made, the inevitable happened.

Toguchi could swear his mouth opened without his head having any say in the matter.

"Oh, fuck me," his voice immediately rose to a scream, "So you think _my_ looks arouse suspicion, you bitch?! At least I don't look like-" there were so many insults in his head on this matter that it was hard to choose just one, "-like a dead hooker with a fucking bondage fetish! Oh wait, my mistake! Maybe not a hooker, just a common slut! Because, for the life of me, I can't imagine anyone paying a single yen to slam your ass!"

The silence that followed this monologue was so thick that even Shinji Nishizono would have had a hard time cutting through it with a knife. Neighbors started banging on the wall. Oh so that they didn't want to hear.

Toguchi's head hummed slightly, his heart pounded like a speaker at a techno party. He still wasn't sure why he said what he said. Using such sexual imagery, even to insult Zenitsu, left him with an uncomfortable dirty aftertaste on the tongue. But then again, who was he kidding. It still felt good. Alright, a dirty kind of good, but good, nonetheless. Satisfying, like a bitch-slap that has been a long time coming. And just by looking at Zenitsu's face Toguchi could tell he managed to hit him where it hurt.

Zenitsu's visage was indeed a gorgeous sight. All pretence of politeness has been wiped off his face, barely controlled rage taking its place. It wreaked havoc on his features, turning his face into a feral grimace. His mouth quivered slightly, teeth flashed menacingly between parted lips. Words failed him.

When Zenitsu composed himself enough to speak up, his voice had a low coarse quality. "A dead hooker, so that's how it is, son of a… Why, if we didn't need you to crawl around taping manifestations of Amamiya Kazuhiko and other bar-coded samples, by now you… you would not have had the privilege of breathing."

Zenitsu leaned in closer, as he spoke. One of his hands coiled around Toguchi's throat, and the other grabbed a fistful of his hair. Yet, despite all the present danger signs, Toguchi couldn't bring himself to act accordingly. Not with those wild unnaturally pale eyes boring into him. His mouth has suddenly gone dry, and his heartbeat just wouldn't calm down, and a thin film of perspiration was starting to form on the back of his neck. It felt as if a high-voltage connection was established between him and Zenitsu, and the rising current was making his body behave in an increasingly strange way.

It took Toguchi a moment to register that Zenitsu's hand was no longer tangled up in his hair. Without breaking eye contact, Toguchi reached out with his left hand, just in time to catch Zenitsu's stun gun poised dangerously close to his rib cage. Should have seen it coming. Their relationship was never based on fair play.

"Weren't you saying something about my privilege of breathing?" Toguchi tried to sound casual, but knew the quiver in his voice was giving him away.

Zenitsu's hand twisted in Toguchi's grip, he refused to let go of the weapon.

"Oh, you'll live through this, I'll see to it," Zenitsu hissed, his eyes turned to slits filled to the brim with malice, "The human body can be surprisingly resilient to a reasonable amount of voltage. I'll be seeing you thrash beneath me for quite some time, as pain hits you again, and again, and again."

There was something about the rhythm of those words that sent a desperate thrill through Toguchi's frame. His whole body was starting to pulse with heat. The rational part of his mind made a weak attempt to speculate about whether this was a healthy reaction to an imminent life threat, but was immediately gagged and told to quit being paranoid.

Perhaps, sensing a weak spot in his opponent's defense, Zenitsu thrust his weapon forward with a sudden burst of force. His free hand secured Toguchi's head, making it difficult to dodge the attack. Having no other way to escape the assault, Toguchi opted for knocking the ground from underneath Zenitsu's left foot. The move upset Zenitsu's balance and sent him falling forward into Toguchi's lap. The stun gun passed a breath away from Toguchi's head, sending a wave of electric charge into the fabric of the couch. The air was immediately filled with the smell of burnt leather.

The next moment Toguchi was treated to one hell of a knuckle sandwich. The coopery taste of blood filled his mouth. It didn't hurt that much, but it maddened him to the point of frenzy. All the sensations in his body were getting tangled into one agonizing knot. Pain, heat, anger, strange anticipation. Toguchi couldn't even make heads or tails of what he really felt or wanted anymore. But one thing he did know - he knew who was to blame for this mess. And he knew what he was going to do about it. As Zenitsu was getting up to retrieve his weapon, Toguchi made a lunge for the ring on his collar, pulling the man down on top of himself once again.

"You know, if there's one thing I know about pain," Toguchi breathed into Zenitsu's ear, "It's that it's more fun when shared. And I think…" his teeth were almost touching the delicate-looking ear shell, "I'll enjoy sharing it with you."

With that he bit down on the cord connected to the endorphin-pumping earphone in Zenitsu's ear and yanked the contraption out with one sharp jerk. All Zenitsu's attempts to protest this action were futile –- Toguchi restrained both of Zenitsu's arms with more strength than he even thought himself capable of.

However, Zenitsu would not be had that easily. As Toguchi made a pass at the remaining earphone, he sank his teeth deep into the flesh of Toguchi's shoulder. Searing pain made Toguchi's vision go red, his breath came out as a sharp hiss between clenched teeth. It pulsed, and stung, and he could feel warm rivulets of blood run down his chest and stomach. But he wouldn't, couldn't let go of the cord, not now, for fuck's sake. Unfortunately, his hold on Zenitsu's arms weakened, and the next moment he was practically torn away from his task by a crushing grip on his lower jaw and thrown against the couch cushion.

He hit Zenitsu almost blindly. Vision clouded by the burning sensation in his shoulder, he watched as Zenitsu's head craned to the side, and blood started to seep from between his lips. And in the humid silence Toguchi heard that delicious sound – a faint strangled cry.

The second earphone was partially disconnected from Zenitsu's ear, and, by the looks of it, it wasn't doing much good in terms of numbing the pain. Giving him no time to recover, Toguchi hit again, this time finally knocking the contraption out of Zenitsu's ear and sending drops of blood flying across the room.

Toguchi gulped down warm stale air. It felt as if he was entering a trance. The smell of blood, the sticky feel of it all over his hands, the throbbing ache in his body, the sight of Zenitsu, so close to him and overflowing with pain – it was awakening something dark inside him, something that was never acknowledged by the light of day. Something that reminded him of Lucy Monostone's smile.

Toguchi hit Zenitsu again and again, under the jaw, sideways across the cheekbone, until he noticed that Zenitsu was practically collapsing onto him. Zenitsu's mouth was slightly open and dripping with blood, faint sighs interspersed with obscenities pouring out of it.

Their faces were almost touching now. Toguchi felt Zenitsu's heated breath on his neck and the weight of the man's body pressing down on his thighs. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as he gulped and swallowed down his own blood. His twitching fingers were moving over Toguchi's shoulders. TV light gave Zenitsu a faint ghostly glow, as if he was alight with electrical charge.

Perhaps, it started with masochistic desire to get electrocuted from Zenitsu's very skin, or perhaps, he just lost his mind altogether. But before Toguchi could stop himself, he reached for the chin in front of him and brought their bruised lips together. His teeth grazed the cut on Zenitsu's bottom lip, making blood flow with renewed vigor. The last thing Toguchi remembered running through his head was "don't think, for fuck's sake, just don't think, don't think". And then he plunged into the red gaping mouth.

Toguchi heard Zenitsu mutter something under his breath that sounded like "how dare you", and the next second his tongue was all over Toguchi's mouth, pushing his way in, swallowing down blood mixed with saliva with predatory greed.

Both of Zenitsu's hands were quick to settle on Toguchi's chest, fingers spread out, scaling every inch of bare skin. His hands felt almost unnaturally smooth, but at the same time strong, and utterly devoid of feminine gentleness. His fingers didn't caress, they pressed down, gripped, tore. And Toguchi found himself leaning into his touch. Black-nailed thumbs bit hard into sensitive flesh of Toguchi's nipples, causing him to draw a sharp breath.

"You love it like this, don't you…if it doesn't hurt… it doesn't count," Zenitsu whispered into Toguchi's mouth. His breathing was ragged, but a taunting smile was starting to tug at the corners of his bloodied lips.

The man sure regained confidence fast. Before Toguchi knew it, his hands were gripping Zenitsu's torso. Zenitsu's choice of clothing was definitely playing to his advantage now. He pushed the sharp metal edge of the zipper into Zenitsu's chest, using his other hand to squeeze the exposed part of Zenitsu's hip.

"So do you," he breathed back, feeling the fine architecture of muscles tremble under his palm. Gripping Zenitsu's latex-covered thighs, Toguchi brought their hips together, only then realizing how hard they both were.

Zenitsu hissed, "Oh God, just fuck me already, you bastard… Can't you see, I'm burning up."

The words hit Toguchi like heavy voltage to the head. At first, he felt deafened by wave of raw desire, his body urging him to obey the given command. But the words had a bitter sobering aftertaste, a few simple phrases exposing the whole night act for what it really was. And a maddening whirlpool of thoughts and emotions was already starting to form in his head.

Even worse, it brought up memories - Cambodia and Vietnam, carnage, fear, and desperate lust for life. Nervous fumblings in tents at night, strange new experiences, mistakes, and promises to never repeat them. Toguchi winced. This was getting ridiculous. He didn't want to deal with complicated things like that now. Not when his body insisted on immediate action. It angered him to no end. He glared at Zenitsu. Was it so hard to just keep that big mouth shut?

It looked like Zenitsu realized his mistake as well. He averted his eyes almost apologetically, and bit his lip. His chest was rising and falling rapidly in a series of labored breaths. He said nothing. Just this once Zenitsu had no orders to give and no threats to make. Just this once he was waiting for Toguchi to make the decision.

Seeing Zenitsu like this was a rare thing indeed. Perhaps, even more rare than seeing him frightened or enraged. The last time Toguchi saw that sheepish face was when Zenitsu needed a place to crash after an unfortunate run-in with Shinji Nishizono. It turned out, even "an advanced being"- as Zenitsu liked to refer to himself, had his limitations. He had to remain immobile for some time for his fractured ribs to start growing back together, and in his poor condition he couldn't make it to the base, or so he said. As he lay on the faded blue tatami, hands twitching, eyes staring at the ceiling, he looked about as comfortable as a goldfish taken out of the tank. Surprisingly, he protested against being filmed, and instead guided Toguchi's hand just to the left of his sternum. Toguchi remembered the feeling of regenerating tissue sprouting and weaving its way through the man's flesh. He also recalled feeling the slightly quickened pace of the artificially engineered heart, the smooth-skinned hand covering his, and seeing the expression of uncertainty in those half-closed slanted eyes.

Suddenly Toguchi realized that the mental onslaught in his head came to a halt. At the same time it crossed his mind that it was way past midnight and his case certainly qualified for "under heavy alcoholic influence, and, therefore, not responsible for any actions". Whatever happened next, tomorrow he would wake up and none of the night's events would seem real. Or perhaps, he wouldn't remember anything at all. That was very probable. And he was so tired, and so sick of restraining himself.

Toguchi let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and reached his hand out to stroke Zenitsu's chin. Zenitsu leaned into the touch, but there was still suspicion in his eyes. However, as Toguchi moved on to lick blood and sweat from his neck, he felt a long shudder pass through the man's frame. And then both of Zenitsu's arms were gripping him as if his life depended on it.

So the last bridge to retreat was up in flames. But, Toguchi thought, that didn't mean he couldn't have his fun, even if fire was getting so close to them. And as much as he appreciated Zenitsu's request, he'd be damned if he let the motherfucker tell him what to do, even when it came to screwing. Toguchi grinned. He gathered up what was left of his self-control, determined to stop himself from directly obeying the given command for as long as possible.

Toguchi tore the Zenitsu's latex top wide enough to lick and leave bite marks on the man's chest, smearing blood and saliva over strikingly white skin. Zenitsu's hands were on Toguchi's shoulders, black nails tearing into skin in a psychotic frenzy. Toguchi could hear Zenitsu's voice, desire dripping off every slurred phrase, cursing him, and threatening to blow his brain out if he as much as thought about stopping now.

It was becoming physically painful to keep holding back. Every time Toguchi heard his name roll around on that tongue, it went straight to his straining erection. He risked one glance up at Zenitsu, a move that cost him another fist in the face. Even in this state, the man could hit like there was no tomorrow. Toguchi's head craned to the side, and for a second his eyes caught sight of the Zenitsu's stun gun the floor, just within arm's reach. He could have sworn the last time he set eyes on the damn thing it was flying across the room. This miscalculation could cost him one hell of a price.

And as he turned back to face Zenitsu, he knew the bastard was aware of his discovery. They both made a lunge for the weapon. Toguchi grabbed it first. But then, with one catlike movement, Zenitsu's hand lashed out and caught his, and once again they were locked in a struggle for the stun gun.

"Retrieving my toy for me, Toguchi," Zenitsu breathed heavily into his ear. "How nice of you, mmm…"

Zenitsu's tongue flicked over Toguchi's earlobe. His free hand found the oozing bite wound on Toguchi's shoulder and dug deep into damaged tissue. At the same time he pressed his body against Toguchi's, grinding their bodies against each other. Toguchi shut his eyes. It felt so good, that for a second he let himself forget what the goal of this game was.

The next moment Zenitsu drew away, Toguchi felt the stun gun's horns sink into his thigh and heard a sharp click. He held his breath and said goodbye to life as he knew it. If Zenitsu wanted to seriously injure, or even kill him, this was his chance. And for all Toguchi knew, the man would be completely satisfied with fucking his body as the last breath left it.

The sensation was nothing like what he prepared himself for. It barely felt painful, but it felt odd, as if his entire body has become an electric conductor. White sparks danced in front of his eyes, his muscles hummed with electric charge. Toguchi glanced at Zenitsu, who was staring at him, as if transfixed.

Zenitsu turned off the stun gun and tossed it aside.

"Touch me now," he said and licked his lips nervously.

Toguchi had to admit, he didn't see that one coming. He blinked it off, and reached out gingerly to trace his fingers down Zenitsu's stomach, just to see the man nearly collapse down on him. The next second Zenitsu was back on his lap, and rubbing against Toguchi's hands like a cat in heat.

As his initial surprise faded, Toguchi's curiosity got the better of him.

"Is this how it's supposed to…" he ventured. It was difficult to think, let alone speak in complete sentences. So he just motioned toward the stun gun with a nod of his head, his gaze not leaving the man writhing in his hands.

It looked like Zenitsu anticipated this question. A sleazy grin appeared on his face, as he continued to push his body against Toguchi's hands, "I told you before. It's custom-made."

"Custom-made for electrosex?" Toguchi's hand slid down Zenitsu's hip and undid the studded metal button on his pants with one quick movement.

"Don't make me demonstrate its more harmful uses," Zenitsu's voice was a dangerous purr.

His eyes fluttered close, as Toguchi unzipped the fly on his latex pants and slipped his hand inside. "Mm, you shouldn't be surprised, really… Nothing is impossible for- ah!"

Toguchi chose this moment to give Zenitsu's cock a rough squeeze. Zenitsu threw his head back, moans spilling from his open mouth.

"For a secret society you're part of?" Toguchi taunted. But his voice sounded faint and scratchy, even to his own ears. The sheer amount of physical desire coursing through his body was starting to suffocate him.

"For a society we're both part of."

Zenitsu was the one who brought their lips together now. It was their second mouth-to-mouth kiss, and it was just as savage, but it carried a more urgent message: I need you. Yes, right-fucking-now.

As they drew apart, Toguchi took one look the man before him - eyes half-closed, strikingly white hair spattered with blood, mouth open and calling out his name. And there was just no strength left in him to resist those calls anymore.

Toguchi grabbed Zenitsu's latex-covered leg, hurling the man onto the floor. His head was swimming, as he got up. It took him about two seconds to close the distance between them. The rest of Zenitsu's outfit didn't take long to get out of the way. And Toguchi doubted that removing his jeans could present any challenge, but Zenitsu managed to prove him wrong. Toguchi watched as Zenitsu placed his hand reverently on the Gakuso cross on his belt, and after undoing it, began fumbling with the zipper. Predictably, at this point his luck ran out and the mechanism just wouldn't work. Seeing Zenitsu so worked-up and desperate was an experience Toguchi thought he could indulge in for eternity. At any other time. At that moment he reached past Zenitsu's trembling fingers, and with one quick movement undid the zipper.

Zenitsu lifted his eyes slowly to meet Toguchi's gaze. His pupils were dilated and huge. And Toguchi heard his own voice, as if it didn't belong to him, say, "On your hands and knees, bitch."

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The morning after felt like the morning after the war.

Through the fog of sleep Toguchi heard Zenitsu muttering curses under his breath, as he tried to put on his damaged clothes. The look suited him well, the stain on his pants was a particularly nice touch. Sharing this truth with the man himself might have been a mistake though. The black boot hit Toguchi hard in the stomach, and moments later he heard heavy heels echo down the hall. And then the door slammed shut. And then for a few hours there was nothing, and for that Toguchi was grateful. If sleep was medicine, he felt like taking an overdose of it.

And now that one last blessing was all used up. Toguchi squinted at rays of sunlight peeking from behind the blinds, sighed, and made an awkward attempt to get up. By the unforgivingly bright bathroom light he looked himself over. A spider web of scratches on his arms and back. A bite wound on the shoulder that was starting to collect pus. Bruises on his face, several cracked teeth. And a completely fucked-up brain.

Well, looking on the bright side, there was one part of his body that was completely satisfied with the night's work. Toguchi laughed mirthlessly. He couldn't help recalling the feeling of Zenitsu's tongue working its way down his stomach, hands sliding down his hips, holding him down. And that purring voice, breath slightly hitched, lips moving against skin: "Just relax… you'll like this, I'm sure of it." And he did. Toguchi spit blood into the sink and turned on the shower.

Patching himself up took some time, and just about all bandage material left in the house. While dabbing his cuts with alcohol, Toguchi looked over the room gloomily. The VCR was stuck in the replay mode. Funny, he didn't remember turning that on. Familiar pictures were moving onscreen, characters screaming without sound. A thought drifted through Toguchi's head that Zenitsu's mouth could give the dirtiest star in the porn industry a run for their money. In fact, he could swear he never heard a single person voicing their pleasure in a more shameless manner. Toguchi rubbed his temples irritably. He got up to punch the eject tab on the video-player, and headed to the kitchen, throwing the tape into a waste bin, along with empty beer cans. His thoughts were starting to run in circles. He needed a distraction.

Documenting the merry adventures of Amamiya Kazuhiko was still, obviously, number one on his to-do list. Although the business was becoming a drag. It was one thing to tape an interesting case, from time to time. But, last week, after he spent hours lounging in front of Izono Crime Lab, waiting for something, anything to happen, he couldn't help thinking how pathetic the whole thing looked. He was close to abandoning his post, if it wasn't for incessant phone calls from Zenitsu. Oh damn it all to hell. Toguchi nearly threw his coffee cup against the wall. Was this never going to end?

As he dressed and walked around the house, a nagging pain started up in his left leg. So there was a catch to Zenitsu's electro-fetish after all. Not that it surprised him, or that the pain was that bad. But as the dull ache resonated throughout his leg with every step he took, it felt as if something or someone wouldn't let him forget about his thoughts, not even for a second. God, that idea really was unsettling.

Slinging his camera-bag over one shoulder, Toguchi was about to open the apartment door, when something caught his eye. On the coat rack hung Zenitsu's ugly feather coat. Somehow it looked so lonely, left behind by its owner. Not that it made it any better looking. After staring at it for a few moments, Toguchi felt a genuine smile creeping onto his face, for the first time this morning. It looked like the "advanced being" was in such a hurry to leave, he hardly noticed anything around him. Was his head also full of questions he didn't know an answer to? Did he realize half-way to his base that people were staring, and that he looked like he survived a gang bang? Oh, Toguchi thought he could take a few more cuts and bruises to see Zenitsu's face at that moment.

He was still grinning as he turned keys in the lock and went out into the bleak sunshine to catch a bus to the city centre.


End file.
